Itch
by Shadowy2012
Summary: Carolyn has a problem.


**Itch**

_Summary: Carolyn has a problem._

_Notes: Burton-verse. Takes place six months after the movie. Carolyn is now 16. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I threw this together really quickly._

_Warnings: Drug use. Suggestiveness and sexuality involving a teenager._

The hissing strike of a match. A tip is lit. Carolyn takes a long puff. Holds. Slowly exhales as she looks out at the bright moon covered by passing clouds in the night sky. She leans against the wall as she sits on the window sill. She closes her eyes.

Carolyn puts the joint down as the smoke slips out the window, which is convenient, as it is protective of her illegal activity. It's not like anyone could smell it though. They'd have to actually come into her room to do so. Her mother rarely came to her room lately.

Elizabeth was always busy now. Her first priority after the fire had been to rebuild the manor. And as they rebuilt, she and her mother had drawn closer for the first time. The day after the fire, Elizabeth had set Carolyn down and told her how proud she was of her for trying to protect the family. She'd then, with a long pause, placed a hand on hers and struggled to find words "Carolyn, I'm so sorry...", she'd began, then choked back tears. They shared this brief moment of apology and regret and closeness. And then, almost as soon as it began, it was over, as Carolyn smirked and simply replied, "Whatever, no worries.", got up, and left the room.

That was the last time they really spoke about her lycanthropy. If you can even call that speaking. Carolyn could tell that it was easier on Elizabeth to be supportive, but silent. She knew that Carolyn would change uncontrollably at full moons. Those nights, Elizabeth would often hear the front doors creak open and then howls in the night air, and then the door would creak again and she'd go to Carolyn's room to find her snuggled back into her bed. She also knew that Carolyn could change when she wanted to, or when angry or protective, but that's all she knew and probably all she wanted to know. Carolyn never offered to share any other details, as she wasn't exactly talkative anyway. Still though, after everything, they were closer for awhile. In between her mood swings they would actually have moments where they'd bond or laugh as they rebuilt and redecorated the home. And they both cherished those moments.

After the manor was rebuilt however, it had been time to rebuild the factory, and so their time together now was rare. Things had changed in Collinsport after Angelique died. When her deception was revealed, the people were willing to give the Collins family the benefit of the doubt, though few ever spoke about what they saw that night. True, they looked at the family like the freaks they were, and there were constant whispers and warnings to children to stay away from the manor at night. But since the Collins were the freaks that would now be the primary source of economic survival, they at least faked their acceptance of them.

Carolyn takes another hit. That's another thing her mother didn't know about her. That she spent the vast majority of her time high as a kite. Life was easier that way. Ever since puberty and her inner wolf came forth, she found it easier to deal thanks to the herb. It kept her calm. And with the constant issues both lycanthropic and teenage, staying calm was a must in order to protect her secret. The last thing she needed was to lose her temper at David and change right at the dinner table. So smoking was her remedy. It kept her in check. Now that her mother knew about her being a werewolf, she probably didn't have to smoke as much any more, but that certainly wasn't stopping her.

Because, it was nice...feeling the calmness that came with it. Her mind and body was constantly on edge. Her senses and physical strength were heightened beyond that of a normal person, even when she wasn't in wolf form. She could hear whispered conversations from yards away. If something as subtle as green tea was being made in the kitchen, she could smell it despite being in her room. And when an animal was near, she could sense it. Occasionally a deer would trek by in the woods surrounding the manor, and she'd find herself bolting out of a sound sleep and fighting an overwhelming hunger and desire to chase after it. Sometimes smoking a joint would backfire however, and she'd wind up with munchies so bad that nothing in their well-stocked fridge could satisfy her, and she was left to tear through the woods in hunt of a deer.

One night when on one of her benders, she'd found a rabbit just outside the manor grounds. It was a cute rabbit she'd normally want to take home and feed carrots. But this night was different. This night, he was a late night snack. She'd shifted back to her human form and come home to grab a soda from the fridge to wash it down, only to lower the bottle from her blood-soaked lips and come face to face her mother, looking at her in semi-horror and not-so-well hidden disgust. Carolyn had wiped her mouth and hurriedly brushed past her, and neither had spoken of the incident since.

These were the things they just didn't speak of. There were other things they didn't speak of though. Things she didn't, couldn't, speak of with _anybody_. Things that were between her and her bedroom walls. Things she tried to satisfy with certain actions at night or in the shower that David had once tattled about in front of everyone at the dinner table. Things that made her "purr like a kitten". The problem was, she wasn't a kitten. She was a wolf. She was a beast. And lately, self-satisfaction just wasn't doing the trick. She wanted...she needed, more.

It came in waves. She had her normal period like a normal girl. But shortly thereafter, it would hit. This uncontrollable, all encompassing _need_. It wasn't just about that single moment of satisfaction. That could be achieved alone. It was more than that, it was a need for the touch of another. The ravaging of bodies. The merging of sexes. Mating.

Once a month, like clockwork, this need came. She dreaded her cycle, but not for the period itself. Rather, she dreaded it for what came once it ended. "A dog in heat" was the phrase one might sling out in jest. But for her, heat was an understatement. It was a burning. A yearning for someone to complete her. To ravage her. And the already raging teenage hormones certainly didn't help. It only made it worse. This "heat" usually lasted about a week. But it was miserable. It absolutely consumed her. She was more on edge than ever. She would lie in bed at night and sweat as her hands gripped her sheets and face buried into her pillow. It was torturous. Damn near painful. And by day, it was even worse.

The mere sight of an attractive male who was not a blood relative made her crazy. While she was lucky to be home schooled and avoid jumping classmates right in the middle of the hallway, she still couldn't avoid crossing paths with the male species entirely for a full week each time. For instance, she would curse her very existence when her mother forced her to go into town with her and she was forced to walk through busy streets, passing flesh which took everything in her not to ravage right then and there. She would usually just keep her eyes to the ground and do her best not to breathe through her nose so to avoid the hormonal scents of testosterone that would otherwise seep into her bloodstream and drive her wild.

Even now, as she sat by the window, with the cold breeze in her face, and the effects of the marijuana washing over her, she still couldn't stop thinking about it. Even the thought of it made her blood begin to boil and her heart begin to pound. Or was it simply the thought of it? "Shit." she breathes, when she realizes now, that it is that time again. She'd finished her cycle a couple days ago. The week from hell was beginning. She closes her eyes in frustration.

A knock at the door. Carolyn opens her eyes and curses, blowing the smoke out the window. Puts the joint out and waves the remnants of it away.

"One second." She wipes ashes off her shirt and pushes off the window sill.

"Carolyn?" Elizabeth's gentle but firm voice speaks as she just goes ahead and opens the door right up.

"God, I said just a second." Carolyn huffs.

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing. What do you want?" she says curtly as she grabs a magazine from her nightstand and flops onto her bed.

Elizabeth eyes her, like a mother trying to figure out if their child has grabbed a cookie from the jaw before dinner. She finally figures it's not worth the inquiry.

"I was just going to tell you, we put the final touches on the factory today."

A flat, uninterested "Great." is the only response give in return.

"Inspectors are coming tomorrow. We get their approval and we'll be opening in a month."

Silence.

"Carolyn. Could you at least pretend to be interested in our family business?"

Were it six months ago, Carolyn would have either continued to ignore her mother, or else responded with some snide remark, sending her mother exiting in frustration. Instead, now, she decided to show compassion and humor her mother's excitement as best she could...despite being both high and horny as hell at the moment.

She puts down the magazine.

"That's awesome mom. Really." She nods with a forced, reassuring smile.

Her sentiment seems genuinely appreciated. Elizabeth smiles.

"It is. It's 'awesome' for all of us. You especially. After all, all of this will be yours one day."

And there it was. Sure, Carolyn recently had a renewed sense of loyalty and family. She would risk her life for her family. But giving up her life to spend eternity in this town, running a fish factory? That was worse than death. Of course she'd never be able to tell her mother that truth. She'd find a way some day, but for now, she would just pretend. And so, she lets loose a forced smile that might have come off as more of a snotty smirk. But she simply can't help it if it is in fact the latter. She needed her mother to leave, and leave now. She needed some relief. Maybe she'd go for a hunt to try to get her mind off of it, or hop in the shower to cool down. But either way, she needed her mom to just _leave_.

"Yeah." And with that, she reopens her magazine. Her heart is pounding now more than ever, thanks in no part to a tribute to Jim Morrison in her magazine, where a huge shirtless photo of him stares her in the face. Her eyes trail down his stomach, to the toned handlebar lower hips and then to - she quickly turns the page.

Her mother nods, knowing her teenager's attention span has run out.

"Goodnight Carolyn."

She heads for the door. Stops just before closing it behind her.

"Oh, by the way, you're coming with me tomorrow."

And with that, she shuts the door behind her, leaving Carolyn staring staring straight ahead in shock and dread.

"Oh God..."

To be continue...


End file.
